Tag Archive: Philosophy

A new, special thought for Thursday post (even though it’s almost Friday), on recent and past tragedies this year. The style might be rather rough, but it should capture the rawness of my feelings.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.” Psalm 23:4
Every day, throughout the world, tragedy strikes. So much of the human experience involves coping with loss. But this year seems especially painful: The Orlando Shooting, the Christina Grimmie Shooting, the premature deaths of media figures and celebrities like Prince, David Bowie, Glenn Frey, Alan Rickman, and Kimbo Slice. Then you have the death of Lane Graves, the two-year-old who was drowned by an alligator while on vacation with his family at Disney, on Tuesday, and the murder of Jo Cox, a member of the British Parliament, earlier today. Finally, you even have tragedies involving non-humans, for instance, the unfortunate death of the gorilla Harambe. When these horrific events strike, we’re left with sadness, pain, and confusion. For a Christians, we may even doubt the goodness of God – what kind of God would allow such senseless death take place?

Well, it’s almost Friday, but I’ve had a busy work schedule the past two days, and it still technically is Thursday. Time for our next post:

“…Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” – Philippians 2:5b-8

Imagine, for a moment, what it would be like to be God: Timeless, all-powerful, all-knowing permeating the entire created universe yet existing eternally outside it. Always existing, without a beginning or end. Think of how that contrasts to our fleeting existence. How much thought do you give to a single microbe, or a tiny ant? Would you be willing, in order to save the life of a single microbe or ant, to become one yourself? To be bound by their limitations? Yet God did that for us.Continue reading →

So one of the courses I’m taking this semester is Public/Engaged Anthropology, which is exploring how to involve communities at all levels of anthropology, from helping design research questions to producing the final publications to distributing the information. Thursday this past week I heard a guest lecture from Whitney Battle-Baptiste, a black feminist archaeologist (meaning she’s a black feminist archaeologist, and she does black feminist focused archaeology). She explained that for years she resisted the label feminist, because most of the African-American community views feminism as anti-family, anti-men, and fairly self-centered. And she eventually came to the realization that it’s not. Sure, there are feminists who might fall under those labels, but most do not. Battle-Baptiste stressed that “feminism” really is “feminisms” – it’s the idea of listening to multiple voices and allowing multiple viewpoints to be expressed. Her admission of this struggle helped me, because this is something I’ve struggled with. Since working at the Susan B. Anthony Birthplace Museum last summer, I’ve struggled with whether I should call myself a feminist. As a man coming from a white, conservative, Christian perspective, “feminism” came to me with a lot of negative connotations, just like it did for Battle-Baptiste. But I certainly support equal political and social rights for women. I support equal political and social rights for everyone, actually. And I love studying issues of gender, class, and social interactions. Therefore, I’m proud to say: I’m a feminist.

I made this declaration a few days ago on Facebook, with the hashtag #letthefiringsquadcommence. A lot of interesting conversations sprang up, and I think (as I expected) I sparked some controversy from some of my other conservative-minded friends. So my question is: What does feminism mean to you?

As I mentioned in my previous post, I am working this summer at Jacob’s Pillow Dance. The school is in Becket, a small town which is set in the of magnificent, predominately deciduous forest. As a consequence, the almost hour-long drive down and back through the lush green of spring woods and vegetation has refreshed my realization of just how beautiful Berkshire County is. Well, a week or two ago, I was on break from the kitchen, and went out onto the back porch to eat lunch. My prayer life has been very weak for quite some time, so I decided to take some time to pray. As I was looking for things to verbally praise God for, when I just started looking around at the trees and other natural wonders around me. A chipmunk came onto the porch, so I directed my eyes to it. I basically just watched it and verbally in my head just praised God for what I was seeing. However, I then went from a state of prayer, which is an articulated talk with God, to just observing the movements of the chipmunk and consciously being aware of how it glorifies God. This second state I would not call prayer, as I was no longer mentally talking, but rather just observing and “being.” This state of simply observing and “being” while consciously reflecting everything back to God was quite wonderful, and I think it gives an inkling to what the new earth will be like, a constant state of worship. While the moment that I experienced was fleeting, it is one in which I am trying to live every second of my life, and fail at miserably. But I still manage to consciously reflect my actions back to God at least some of the time, and there have been several times at work when amidst the hustle and bustle I’ve been able to say “God, this is what I am supposed to do. You made to work the best that I can!”

[Note: August 29, 2016 – While I don’t disavow this poem, I now think that the imagery does have troubling aspects because of the real-life history of colonialism and the misuse of religion in exploitation and conquest. Just please keep that in mind.]

Medicine Man

They who have ears to hear, let me tell a parable of sorrow and tears:

A woman walked blind, her sight blurred, a medicine man claimed he could help her.

He chanted and called, hemmed and hawed, but still the women walked in dark.

Treatment was to no avail, his vain attempts would not prevail.

Cruel regimens and painful treatments, magic charms and foul ointments, no remedy could be found.